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I admit it. Even after eighteen model years, I still don’t understand the point of Saturn.

In recent years, people have become increasingly beguiled by General Motors’ second-youngest brand, largely because of a string of viable new products such as the Aura, Outlook, Vue, and Astra. As these are good, competitive vehicles, that’s fair enough.

But despite the infusion of these new vehicles, exactly nobody that I’ve spoken with—inside or outside the industry—has any idea what Saturn stands for. Is it value? Is it performance? Is it high style? Is it youth? Is it ecological friendliness? Each of Saturn’s vehicles is among the very best GM makes. So what’s my problem? That the Saturn brand lacks definition, and worse still, its rudderless existence is serving to put the hurt on other GM divisions.

Most journalists and execs are quick to point out that Saturn is an ideal depot for bringing Opels to America. While I’m not denying that the GM Europe division has some mighty fine iron to bring over, I’m a little confused as to how GM expects this situation to affect its bigger brands and their substantially larger dealer networks.

Great product is key, and all of GM’s Lambda-platform crossovers are winners; the Outlook is no exception. The Sky is a stylish and charismatic roadster, provided one can look past its maddening interior and top mechanism. The Aura is a handsome and competent sedan, only recently bettered by the Chevrolet Malibu. The new Vue is infinitely better than the outgoing model, and is far more desirable than its Equinox and Torrent relatives. Saturn’s latest, the Astra? It’s easily GM’s best American-market small car. So what’s the problem? There’s no common unifying element, no marketable cornerstone to build a brand on.

There used to be. When it was but a fledgling two-model brand, Saturn had the most cohesive brand message of any domestic car manufacturer, and the company did a brilliant job of marketing not only its wares but also the related ownership experience. That whole unthreatening “we clap for you when you buy a car and put a mint on your seat cushion when you come in for an oil change” experience spoke loudly and clearly to non-car people, and consumers ate it up. Saturn pitched itself as A Different Kind of Car Company, and indeed it was.

Saturn even had unique selling points like dent-resistant body paneling and no-haggle pricing. The company quickly amassed brand acolytes by the thousands, despite the fact that its cars were mediocre drives that sold largely on the strength of their dealership experience and excellent marketing. Then, apparently out of financial necessity, GM caved and started pulling the brand back into its parental web. Bye-bye, unique platforms. Au revoir, plastic panels. Ciao, no-dicker sticker. Hello, badge-engineered Relay and misfit Ion. The product situation has now improved greatly, but the identity schizophrenia remains.

The sad thing is, Saturn itself is aware of its identity problems. In addition to changing slogans numerous times over the past few years, the company recently began running a commercial for its Meet the New Saturn Event. The spot depicts a prospective customer walking into a Saturn showroom, looking around bewilderedly at the company’s offerings, only to double-check the signpost to make sure he is in the right place. As he looks around, he asks a pair of salespeople, “Umm…are these all…?” Quickly noting his confusion, they interrupt him mid-sentence and say: “Saturn! You got it. It happens a lot lately. People do that.” The ad is meant to highlight the marque’s dramatic product transformation, and it does so, but it also serves to reinforce that prospective customers don’t know what a Saturn is.

The big loser in all of this is Chevrolet. After all, as GM’s workaday division, it has the company’s largest dealer network, and it has had to sit quietly by while Renaissance Center executives have grown a formerly boutique brand into a direct competitor for its market share.
GM’s Lambda crossovers are a major profit center, yet Bowtie-wearing franchisees are still waiting for their version, the Traverse. In light of GM canning its minivan program, Chevy’s cupboards have been left without a people mover. The new Malibu is a bona fide hit, but dealers still had to watch enviously as Saturn got a nearly two-year head start on sedan sales with the Aura. The same goes for salespeople coveting the Astra only to have to lamely ply Cobalt after Cobalt. Oh, sure, Chevrolet has had pickups and SUVs all to itself, but with both segments eroding, the relentless flow of new Saturns has to chafe something awful.

All of this is odd decision making by The General. Despite the company’s recent successes, most analysts and enthusiasts would agree that GM has a far bigger brand portfolio than is optimal, particularly for a mature market like North America.

In the end, isn’t another full-range brand the last thing GM needs?

Motor vividly.

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Magazine Issue: Winding Road Issue 34